


The Lone Warden

by Blue_Nox



Series: Oh Grey Warden [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bull being Bull, F/M, Flirting, Lone Wolf, Peeping Tom, Slow Burn, Work In Progress, blackwall is a dork, mature adaar, naked qunari, she's a redhead, waterfall bathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 09:18:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12723810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Nox/pseuds/Blue_Nox
Summary: This is the story of Warden Blackwall/Thom Rainier as told by me.Pairing is with my mage Qunari, Dejah Adaar.





	The Lone Warden

**Author's Note:**

> I know that not a lot of people like Blackwall or they find his story boring but I've grown a soft spot for the big teddy bear. I'm going to try and mostly write this from his PoV but I may get some of the details wrong. This is the first in-game fic I've ever written so please bare with me if I get a few of the details wrong.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, we will learn more about Dejah in the coming of chapters and installments.

_I have done nothing good in my life that would allow me to ever deserve you._

…  
…  
…

_Ferelden.  
_ _Despite the cold, it really is a mystic place. The cabin nestled against the lake has been a place that I’ve called my home for months. No one comes calling, or has seemed to miss the place. It’s worn, but it has a fire and a bed and that’s all I can ask for. That and I can fish. I’ve not been able to do a spot of fishing in what feels like ages, but it’s relaxing to be able to do nothing more than loose yourself in it. Now all I have to do is fashion a pole. Maker knows that most people don’t know how to do a decent one._

_I’d been hearing rumors since I got here; mostly whispers about the Inquisition and it’s struggle to restore power in this world gone mad, but I put those thoughts on the backburner when I heard of the bandits that were taking advantage of the situation and robbing farmers. That’s when I have to remember that people still look up to Wardens. Then I have to remember that I am masking as one and the lie continues._

_I’m an old man now, and it seems like too much effort to come clean with the truth. At least for now._

_It didn’t take long before I found the farmers that had been robbed. Honest men, just trying to make a living and nothing more. Then the rumors in the village started to circulate around me. Maker, how I hate the attention of it all. Tomorrow when the sun is high, they will come and be taught; for now I fish. Someone has to get supper after all._

There’s a small plop as the lure hits the water, slowly sinking below the surface and down as far as the line will let it. The soft crackle of the fire behind him as he seemingly lets himself relax against a stump for a moment. Eyes close as he releases a heavy sigh, one the Warden didn’t even know that he was holding. How many years now how he spent on his own, wandering around the countrysides and using his ill gotten lies to make an even bigger name for himself. Well, for Blackwall. The man has been more than a few decades dead but he still lives; in a body not his own and with a face that few remember. Thom could really kick himself right now but it would have to wait. He couldn’t keep drowning in this. 

His thoughts interrupted as the sting of his pole goes underwater and it trembles beside him. The pole is taken with a careful hand before it’s yanked on hard. The small fish that has latched onto the warm flies through the air, hitting the bank by his feet. It would make for a right good supper. He rose from the bank, line in hand and carefully removed the hook from the top of its mouth. Walking into the small cabin, the warmth from the fire hitting him as he laid the fish on the small cook table. Several vegetables laid ‘round that the farmers had given him as payment. Of course he refused but they insisted, giving him what little they could for helping them. Fish and potatoes. Not much but his stomach was protesting with the weight of having food in it once again. Being alone, out in the wilderness, he’d picked up ways to make the hunger stay for as long as he could. Thom couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nice warm meal that cured his thirst for something more. Usually it was tarven swell and passing out in the corner. 

With supper down, the sun going low in the sky and the sky itself turning to its deepest shade of purple, fading to black; Thom knew that tomorrow was going to be a busy day. A small pile of fishbones left on the iron plate and left discarded on the floor as he lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

…  
…  
…

Three had showed up at dawn, worn swords and shields in hand as Thom made his way out of the cabin. They had been mostly talking among themselves, whispers about how honored they were that a Warden would take the time to help train them to defend their lands. The men instantly form a line in front of him. “They will make this a fight, men. Not us.” Maker bless them. They are soaking up everything that he says, watching his moves with eager eyes and mocking them as they spar with one another. Blackwall’s eyes scan the area, nothing but fog rising from the lake in the early morning chill. “Lay there and there. No gaps.” So wet behind the ears. He almost forgets that he was once like this too. 

“Keep focused. They will know what it means.” The swords clash together. One of them seems to be holding his own more than the others and he wonders for a brief moment if the young lad has had some form of training before. “Remember how to carry your shields. You’re not hiding, you’re holding.” He shows them quickly what he is talking about. “Otherwise, it’s useless.” 

“Blackwall?” He’s brought out of his trance for a brief moment from a female calling his name. No one knew he was suppose to be here unless… “Warden Blackwall?” It’s a Qunari, with her face painted white he can’t tell much about her; but it’s those soft purple eyes that question his very existence. “You’re not…” He’s walks up to her with purpose but it’s quickly forgotten when he’s eye level with her breasts. He forgets words for a moment and clears his throat. “How do you know my name?” At this point, he at least has the gall to look up into her face when he’s talking. Maker, first impressions. “Who sent…” The question is lost as they hear a shout from behind the trees. Raising his shield in time to spot at arrow from hitting her square in the shoulder. “That’s it. Help or get out. We’re dealing with these idiots first.” He looks back at her before twirling his sword in the air and she almost looks impressed. 

“Conscripts! Here they come!” 

It’s at the moment that he feels the charge of electricity in the air, the sudden shouts of the bandits that have come for revenge and the smell of flesh frying hitting the air. She’s a mage. Thom wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing, the bandit with his sword high in the air ready to strike was frozen solid in place as an arrow shattered him. Pieces of his body falling to the ground, the blood still frozen in his skin. Makers balls. He wasn’t here to fight these people, only to train and maybe fade back into the blackness but that didn’t seem to be part of the plan now. 

The four newcomers seemed to be forgotten as the fight ended, his sword stuck in the ground as he knelt beside one of the bandits bodies in the tall grass. “Sorry bastard.” It was words spoken in an odd sort of whisper. He didn’t wish for his conscripts to know just how sorry he truly felt for these men. He turns his attention back to his men. “Good work, conscripts. Even if this shouldn’t have happened, they couldn’t…” He pauses for a brief moment. “Well, thieves are made, not born. Take back what they stole, go back to your families. You saved yourselves.” Thom hoped that they would take his words and his training back with them and help more people, but you don’t really know what lies in the hearts of men. 

They leave, quietly as the Qunari walks up to him. Thom doesn’t quite know what to make of it all. 

“You’re no farmer. Why do you know my name? Who are you?” 

“I know your name because I am an agent of the Inquisition.” She’s terrible soft spoken to be such a big… person. “I’m investigating whether the disappearance of Wardens had anything to do with the murder of the Divine.” 

That took him aback for a moment. Had he really been out of contact this long. “Maker’s balls.” He’s pacing now and didn’t even know when he started. “The Wardens and the Divine? That can’t… You’re asking, so you don’t really know.” He stopped pacing, looking into her eyes that were silently searching for answers. “First off, I didn’t know they disappeared. But we do that, right? No more blight, job done, Wardens are the first thing forgotten.” He frowned softly. “But one thing I will tell you: No Warden killed the Divine. Our purpose isn’t political.” 

“I’m not here to accuse.” He watched her shrug softly. “Not yet, I just need information. I’ve only found you. Where are the rest?”

Thom shrugged himself. “I haven’t seen any Wardens for months. I travel alone, recruiting.” Even though he hasn’t done much of that lately. “Not much interest because the archdemon is a decade dead, and no need to conscript because there’s no blight coming. Treaties give Warden’s the right to take what we need, who we need. These idiots forced this fight, so I ‘conscripted’ their victims. They had to do what I said, so I told them to stand. Next time, they won’t need me.” 

He closed his eyes, hanging his head briefly. “Grey Wardens can inspire, make you better than you think you are.”

Her head tilted slightly to the side, “I wasn’t aware Grey Wardens could whatever they want.” 

“It’s complicated. If there’s a blight, everyone has to help the effort to fight it. The treaties are ancient. Outside of blights, it’s as binding as a clever tongue can make it.”

“Do you have any idea where the other Wardens could have gone?” 

“Maybe they returned to our stronghold at Weisshaupt? That’s in the Anderfels, a long way north. I don’t really know. Can’t imagine they’d all disappear at once, let alone where they’d disappear to.” 

She wrinkled her nose a little, almost as if she were thinking about what to ask next. “Why haven’t you gone missing like the rest of them?”

And there it was. The real question. “Well, maybe I was going to. Or maybe there’s a new direction, but a runner got lost or something.” Well, he pulled that answer out of his ass for sure. “My job was to recruit on my own. Planned to stay that way for months, years.”

She sighed softly, clearly not the answers that she was looking for. “Well, thank you, Warden Blackwall.” Wait… did she sound disappointed. “But now where does this leave us?” 

That was… what did she mean by that? He couldn’t form the right words as she walked by. Hell, he didn’t even know her name. “Inquisition… agent did you say? Hold a moment. The Divine is dead and the sky is torn. Events like these, thinking we’re absent is almost as bad as thinking we’re involved.” Thom watched as she gave a nod of understanding. “If you’re trying to put things right, maybe you need a Warden. Maybe you need me.” 

“The Inquisition needs all the support it can get, but what can one Grey Warden do?”

“Save the fucking world, if pressed. Look, maybe fighting demons from the sky isn’t something I’m practiced at, but she me someone who is. And like I said, there are treaties. Maybe this isn’t a blight, but it’s bloody well a disaster. Some will honor them. Being a Warden means something to a lot of people.” Well, he wasn’t looking to make a speech but there it was. 

Maker, she smiled. “Warden Blackwall, the Inquisition accepts your offer.”

“Good to hear. We both need to know what’s going on, and perhaps I’ve been keeping to myself for too long. This Warden walks with you.”

…  
…  
…

He watched as the small company of four left, no doubt going off to find more people to help with their efforts. Walking back into the cabin, he made quick work of packing what few belongings that he had into a small pack and grabbing his sword and shield. Thom looked around for a moment, saying a silent goodbye to the life that he had gotten so use too and puffed up his chest. Time to start being a people person again. Balls. 

The Inquisition camp that was just under the lake was where he headed. It was already set up with several tents, one with a large banner hanging from the top and he wondered if it was hers. Then he shook the thoughts from his head, how would that even work. True, she seemed to have been flirting with him but it had been so long since… well, it had just been a bloody long time. There were already several of her other companions there; another Qunari, another mage, and an elf that looked like she was talking to her arrows. Thom sat his pack down near a bed roll and stared into the fire. This was going to take some getting use to. 

The dwarf was the first one to make it back into camp that night, the sun setting below the horizon and turning the sky a brilliant shade of orange. It didn’t take long before she walked in too, all of them seemed to be covered in blood and mud. The female warrior with them grumbling something about bears as the Qunari walked into her tent. Coming out several moments later with a robe wrapped around her lengthy body and a towel in hand. “I’m going to find somewhere to clean up. I’ll be back in a few.” She was talking to everyone and no one. 

“She isn’t going to run away now, Seeker.” She huffed, wrinkling her nose at the dwarf's words. 

Thom was curious, anyone would be. This was the strangest company of people that he’d ever seen in his life. The stew was bubbling on the fire and most of them had went into their own separate corners, some reading, others working the dents and cuts from their blades. He rose from the log he was sitting with a groan. He wasn’t use to sitting around and doing nothing. “Where you going, Blackwall?” It was the larger male Qunari that called out to him. 

“Just going to take a look around. Check out the defenses.” The Qunari shrugged and went back to doing his work on his blade. 

Thom wasn’t even watching where he was walking. He’d made his way back toward the lake and the cabin that he’d called home. That’s when a gentle humming caught his ears. It had to be the work of a siren because it was leading him directly toward where Dejah was cleaning herself and he stopped, popping behind a rock to hide before she spotted him. She was the one that was humming, lightly singing a song in a language he didn’t even remotely understand. He tried not to look, didn’t know if he should be looking. Maker, he felt like a dirty old peeping tom. She was all legs and thick thighs with a patch of the reddish hair he’d ever seen between her legs. She’d taken her hair down, it was in a long braid that went to the small of her back of the same color. She wasn’t as grey as most of the Qunari that he’d seen in his lifetime. Her skin was darker, almost charcoal and those eyes. Thom had never been attracted to someone outside of his own species before but she, there was something about her. That’s when his eyes caught the gentle glow from her left hand and their eyes seemed to meet for a brief moment. Well, he’d been caught. Bloody hell. 

The Qunari didn’t seem to shy away, almost as if being modest was beneath her and merely kept on, cleaning the blood and dirt from her body and hair. Still singing that maker damned song that would be stuck in his head for days. 

Thom didn’t know his legs could move as fast as they did as he made his way back toward camp. He’d picked up a few logs on the way down and placed with by the fire with a thud, at least it would look like he was doing something more than he was. No one probably would have liked him taking note of their leader, naked under a waterfall. It wasn’t moments later that she came walking in behind him, robe wrapped around her body, hair being dried by the towel. It was no longer in a braid. He plopped down in front of the fire, the male Qunari looking at him with a smirk. 

“Hey, Furrows.” The Qunari male looked at him with a smirk. 

“What? Me?”

“Yes. Furrows between the eyes. Moping. Lost in your own issues.” 

Blackwall frowned at that, “Can’t a man think without being judged on it?”

“I’m not judging.” He gave a warm laugh at that. “I was gonna say you’re pretty good at it. I can’t pull it off.” 

“A tragedy, for sure.” He couldn’t help but notice that the Herald had propped herself against the nearest tree. Trying to make it seem like she was reading a report instead of listening to them. 

“And I mean, if you’re going to brood, you might as well reap the benefits.” 

Thom was modified for a moment, “What benefits?” His voice couldn’t have gotten higher if he tried. 

“The ladies,” Bull had spoken it in a voice low and sultry. Thom just sighed, sliding his hands over his face but the two of them heard the softest of chuckle coming from the Herald as she walked into her tent. 

“See what I mean.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Reading!
> 
> Comments and kudos are welcome! 
> 
> Thanks in advance to all that read this.


End file.
